Spencer SELBY

---

UP TO NOW


assuming experience
stretches to scale absurd

holy peak the dream
of what is called my soul

tracks of deer in snow
and my trick that
perception is playing

promise by nature
wherever I turn with
results in my head
seeming so marginal

amazed that a man prefers
cheap imitation pain

a little gossip mixed with honey
debris from an antique map
hints dropped around the city
followed but would not come
into the circle feeling more
likely a person who would

climb over solid rock
sitting all day in a chair





THE OUTFIT


It's a mad dash
of circumstance
the radio calls static

Your health is failing
in sepia shirtsleeves
No pants but shoes
make up for that

They cost a year's salary
paid for jamming airwaves
You run to work at a site
yet to be determined

The atmosphere is tense
and supported by figures
that won't arrive




HOLD ON


Trails crooked stigma
black bone a dog chews
into spasm on the left
side
panorama of identical
streets
on the right

Flesh for love
on concrete used to cover
personal problems
Step by step to avoid
shell fragments
all around transport
criticized without
thinking

Sole property
whose legs are beggars'
legs
that have gone too far

Sole property
a hologram of light
across two rivers flowing
in opposite directions

Flesh for love
just about embracing
extremities forsaken by
prejudice between

Trails crooked stigma
to the bottom you examine
and forget




MISSION AND POST


In dark alley emphasis
is double-parked

Got your letter drilling
etheric dues

allowing compromise
to accrue qualms weightier
by that which begs
for attention.

Is double abstract
your blaspheme correct?

Do millions fool tomorrow
with knife or sword
compared to a child's toy?

I for one don't think
it's so bad if a person
can't grow to potential.

The reason is my car
just disappeared.





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